Mary Portas

Now, before I actually write what I want to write about, I usually love Mary Portas. I thought the series she had done for the BBC on independent shops (last year) and on charity shops (the year before last) were both amazing. Ok, not amazing like Planet Earth amazing, she's no Attenborough, but they were good TV shows.

Portas has now moved to Channel 4 and has a new show called Mary Portas: Secret Shopper, in which she dons a wig and parades around being outraged at the state of our beloved high street. By the way, I don't plan on doing some hideous review of it as such, as the show itself wasn't actually that bad, and it'll probably get better throughout the series; however, I do have a few gripes, and I shall explain them now...

The whole show is based upon what Portas calls the 'shopping experience'. The 'shopping experience' consists of four rules, I can't even remember them, they were boring and a bit "well, duh". What I don't understand, is how she thinks it's even possible to extend rules that's she's obviously taken from the independent stores she usually frequents, to the high street, where the shops are busier, larger and have a higher turnover of stock *sigh*.

Obviously if you're going to make any form of film about something you don't want things to look "a bit shit" and "bordering acceptable", you wanna go all out and show some eXtremes. So naturally she heads to Primark, the one place on the high street officially void of all organisation. A bit of covert filming of the staff and messy shop-floor takes place, she counts people in the queue and then at the tills, it's all very scientific. I think this may have been the first time Portas has ever set foot in a Primark, as everyone knows you don't go into Primark for the 'shopping experience'. Experience, yes; shopping experience, no. It's more of an 'ordeal'. She goes on to complain that staff don't know where things are, but really, come on? If the staff in Primark did know where everything in Primark was, they wouldn't be working in Primark, because that would make them fucking geniuses. GIVE THEM SOME BLOODY CREDIT, PORTAS.

There are a series of vox pops with "normal looking people on high streets" and they're all pissed off at their lack of 'shopping experience'. Again, seriously, who are these people? I was discussing the whole being-approached-by-sale-assistants thing with one of my flatmates, and we decided that no-one likes it. I like walking in, having a browse and not being bothered, and I'm pretty sure most people (in Britain, anyway) are the same. (If you like being approached by helpful strangers in shops, then let yourself be known, freaks).

She then settles on revamping Pilot, which I have only just realised is quite funny, as it's the first episode, and it's called Pilot because of the shop she revamps, not because it's the pilot episode. The mind boggles. Pilot only has 44 stores, so it's possible for her to have her wicked way with them all, unlike Primark, where she hasn't got a batshit chance in hell of even making them pick their dirty bras off the floor (literally).

Anyway, the point of this blog was/is, whilst Portas does have a point, that the high street rakes in massive profits and we (the shoppers on the high street) get poor customer service, I just don't buy into her idea of the 'shopping experience'. I think most people appreciate a nice changing room, some sales assistants bobbing around, and not to have to queue for an eternity. I think that's fairly reasonable, and some shops do it well (Monsoon and H&M particularly)....

And despite what the crappy people in her vox pops may have said, I don't want people asking me what I'm looking for, I don't want people to be all "HELLO" when I walk into the shop and I don't want a fucking tweet mirror.

Youth of today, innit.

I have recently been walking more, mainly because I'm lazy and it's the most exercise I ever can muster up without wanting to die. However, today was freezing because of a horrendous wind (and because this is a seaside town in the North West of England... so it's always bloody windy). Anyway, to my point, I thought I'd walk a little bit inland to avoid being abused by the wind on the seafront, this - and my life being the way it is - meant I'd obviously get abused by something else, as that's how the world works, right? Now Blackpool is, erm, *achem* a wonderful place and a lot of the abuse you get is usually mildly funny, not because of what they say it, but because of how they say it (I'm aware that me saying it's how not what they say makes me a bit of a stereotypical woman).

Any conversation (/them saying things and me just giving them weird looks) that I have had with anyone under the age of 16 in the past couple of years* has always started with this, and tonight's weirdo child was no different...

A boy outside Tesco Express said "Oi, my mate thinks you're** fit." Now, I think if I was in need of a self-esteem boost, I'm not going to get it from someone who's voice clearly hasn't dropped yet. Obviously I just have to nod at this comment and give them a look of "urgh, but you're children". I'm not gonna be all "fanx, bbz, mebs gimme a text in 10 years time wen u don't sound like Justin Bieber", as that would be sick. Note the Justin Bieber reference, I'm so hip***.

This then turned in to him saying "love, will you get me some fags?", and because I'm still arsey about ever getting anyone fags (even my own parents, cos I'm that much of a bitch), I obviously said no. HOWEVER, this is where I get confused, in what world, seriously, do you then bargain? I said I wouldn't get him fags, and in my mind, if you were gonna bargain (which no-one would, because that's just insane) you could at least go down a level to something, like, I dunno, some super glue or a permanent marker. But clearly not this child...

He then said "well, you could at least give me a blow job." Now, because I went to a school with morons I'm very desensitised to these kind of comments, so much so I actually just said "pah!" in a humorous (and probably a bit mean) way and walked off (the whole time this was going on I was walking, but you get what I mean). I didn't even feel abused, ya know, as a woman just minding her own business down the street and then being hit on BY A CHILD.

This is why Blackpool is both hilarious and awful.




*This obviously doesn't include my sister and her friends, as they have a non-threatening approach to my life
**let's not lie, they probably wouldn't have used the correct "you're".
**Obviously saying hip makes me not hip, but whatever, I can try.

New Year

Seen as it is January 1st I thought I'd do a beginning of the year post, which - because this is me - will probably turn into some chat about crap. It's fine, let's sail through...

For starters:

- I broke my laptop charger because I'm a clumsy idiot.

- My camera broke and now takes well fit pictures of pink blurs. Everything is a pink blur. Fascinating.

- Pokemon is a life-sucker-upper.

Right, ok, now for the new year crap. I don't really do resolutions, mainly because I have very little motivation to do anything that doesn't come under my "really important shit" category; and a change of calendar will not make me less lazy, as much as I'd like it to. However, I will continue with my life thing of trying to make the best of life and I'll try to continue writing in my journal....possibly. Very much a land of 'possibly' and 'try'.

For New Year some freaks and I ventured about drinking wine and whiskey. This is all I'm going to say, as no-one wants to hear what I did. I'd just be typing it all out and I think I'd get bored writing it. Not to say it wasn't a good night, it was a really good night, but - as with most nights out - it's boring to relay the events back to people who don't know who you're on about. There's nothing (/a lot of things, but I'm exaggerating) worse than having to listen to a load of anecdotes about people you don't know/just don't care about. I sound miserable, I'm not, I just get very bored of "lad" stories and such.

Speaking of New Year's Eve, people who are like "I'm not going out on New Year's Eve, fuck NYE, it's not important", please shush, nobody cares if you stay in or not. It isn't some act of rebellion to stay in, it's perfectly normal. You don't need to justify the fact that you're not going out, it's finnneee! Not judging.

I'm now going to sit about for the next hour until this Father Ted night starts on Channel 4, how lovely. I may read my book.

You're all lovely :)